


Ten Things To Do On Long Flights, Number One

by _jamjar (phizzle)



Category: Lost
Genre: Other, wankfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-31
Updated: 2004-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-07 08:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/_jamjar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For serendipity8791.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Ten Things To Do On Long Flights, Number One

**Author's Note:**

> For serendipity8791.

Charlie shifted in his seat. He'd made sure he wasn't too spaced when he got on the plane, the last thing he wanted was to get arrested before he'd even got to Los Angeles.

But _fuck_, this plane ride was long. And he was getting jittery.

The magazines in his hand luggage weren't exactly helping. He was so damn bored he'd hidden one in a copy of NME, and the amount he was shuffling around in his seat was due partly to this.

_Note to self. Don't read porn mags on planes._

Charlie grunted at this sudden belated wisdom. Wait. He'd told himself the exact same thing on the flight to Sydney. He was always forgetting things like that. Little pearls of wisdom slipping through his fingers and away until the next time it was too late.

He glanced up, craning his neck to see if the loo was free. He couldn't see if it was, so he stood, remembering just in time to hold his NME at crotch level. Still couldn't see. Stepped out into the aisle, magazines fluttering to his seat, almost bumping into someone.

"Sorry," he muttered, glancing, seeing blue eyes peeking shyly out of blonde hair. He realised with a jolt that she was a very attractive woman, who he currently was … almost pressed against. Coughing a little, he moved his body away.

She was blushing, and looking down. Eyes coming to rest on Charlie's jeans … widening, blushing deeper, muttering "Sorry" and slipping away to her seat.

Cursing under his breath, Charlie was very relieved to find the loo was free. He locked the door, hands shaking a little but he was used to that, and sat on the closed toilet seat.

He took a deep breath, trying not to feel self conscious. Slipped the zip of his jeans down, dipped his hand inside. Threw his head back, closed his eyes and exhaled as he wrapped his fingers around his hard cock.

In some ways, it felt better than being on stage, as he began stroking, up and down, breath coming in short gasps. Maybe better than being inside someone … the last time he'd had sex was with that girl who hung around the band a lot. Figured it would have been fun. And it had been. He thought of that night, now, stroking harder, faster, starting to pump at his cock, mouth opening to gasp more, quieter, letting more breath out and in.

His thumb made circles on the tip, and he palmed the length, fingers curling, toes curling, eyes shut tight, whimpering a little. Assaulted with the memory of the girl in the aisle, the way she had blushed when she saw he was hard, he screwed his eyes tighter and pumped faster, pressing harder with his fingers, his thumb. Her eyes, the way she had looked shyly through her hair.

He came, trying not to cry out, mouth open, panting, eyes still shut, looking at the image of the girl on his eyelids.

Charlie looked down at the mess on his underpants, his jeans. Sighing a little, he took his hand away and wound toilet paper around it, cleaning himself up. Wondering if he would be able to look the girl in the eye. Wondering if he would ever see her again.

He sidled out of the loo and back to his seat, after making sure he was clean. The girl was in the aisle again, standing up to let a fellow passenger out.

And Charlie caught her eye and almost blushed.


End file.
